Last Strand
by latenightrain
Summary: One of the girls Bronck kidnapped is still stranded far away from home. Is a rescue mission possible? Mid-S1, M/L as always. Christmas in July 2009
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Here's a Christmas in July story for Marcus Sylenus. I think I'm the last contributor, so I hope the hurry doesn't show too much in my writing. I'll list the preferences at the end for those of you who like surprises. I'll keep posting every day or two till it's done.

It's set after **Out **fairly early S1, hence the UST level. I tried to include as many of the requests as possible.

I purposely left a spot for a future fic and I'd be happy to take suggestions if you have any ideas. I write a lot of action, so I thought it'd interesting to leave out the action this time and write everything else around.

Please read and review!! I promise to try my best with your suggestions.

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_**Last Strand**_

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_Fogle Towers._

"Great place, America. Kid's walking home from school. Next thing she knows, she belongs to the highest bidder working in a brothel on the other side of the world someplace and Bronck's been making a killing on every planeload.

"And I almost let him get away with it, Logan"

"Max, the bottom line is he's out of business. You did good.

"I just wish I could've done something about those kids on the plane that other night."

"Got a lead they're being held by a middleman in L.A. Got some people on it. "

"So, do I finally get my Eyes Only secret decoder ring?"

"Listen," Logan had followed her out of the kitchen. "I'm sorry…about the other night. I, uh…I guess I have been a little too focused on my mission. I don't know, maybe Eyes Only has been a way of not having to, uh..think about the less…pleasant aspects of my life." He had paused and had rubbed his hands over his legs. He had finally gotten used to the fact that the unfeeling limbs were really his own."

"Maybe it is a Halloween mask I've been hiding behind."

"You don't have to. Not from me," Max had answered.

Logan headed back to the kitchen, "I've got everything we need to whip up a Pasta Tricolore."

"I can boil the water."

"You can."

The cell phone had interrupted the moment. Reluctantly, Logan had answered it

"Yeah. Word on the net is he's a weapons dealer? - Okay, this is definitely something Eyes Only's going to have to get into. - Really? When? Tonight? - No, I can't. I'll have to call you tomorrow. Yeah. Bye."

It had felt good to put Eyes Only on hold, for once.

"Don't hold up the war on my account," Max had said hesitantly.

"The world will still be broken in the morning," Logan heard himself answer.

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_Fogle Towers. Later that night._

The clock ticked toward 11 P.M. as Max licked the last of the tomato sauce off her fork.

"It's almost as good as your sauce, don't you think?" Logan teased.

"Oh, I don't know, Logan. It could have used a little more oregano." Max ventured a smile at Logan from behind the brown locks that hung down her forehead as she bent over the empty dishes. Now it was Logan's turn to laugh out loud.

It was good to hear him laugh. While Bronck had held Logan, Max had only allowed her brain to think of the mission. But she knew how close they had come to Logan's laugh being silenced.

Logan continued, "The girls were being held by a middleman. I got word that they've been pretty much reunited with their parents."

"Then, what's wrong?" Max tried to read Logan's serious face.

"One of the girls is still missing. I think she was sent straight to Thailand when the other girls went to L.A. Said a buyer wanted a specific kind of girl and I guess she fit the profile."

"Are the police going after her?" Max stopped what she was doing now to listen.

"They said they'll try, but it's a long way to Thailand.. You know how it is. Since the Pulse, we don't even have a real airport in Seattle where you can get on an international flight. Bronck must have flown her out on one of his private jets." His voice had trailed off.

Max fingered the cork for a moment before pushing it back into the bottle's mouth. She started to say something, but, biting her lip, stopped herself.

"I know what you're going to say," Logan threw back at her. "That we can't save everyone. But she was someone's daughter… someone's sister."

Max eyes flashed angrily, "Why do you think I would say that? I'm the one who almost let all those girls be shipped off forever. If I could make that right, I would."

"OK, then. But you wouldn't go chasing this girl halfway across the world, would you? Even if there was a way to get on a flight to Thailand?

Max shrugged, "Well, there isn't a way to get there, so I guess it's a moot point."

They finished cleaning up. The chess set sat on the coffee table, but the mood of the evening had changed and neither of them felt up for a game.

"Well, I'm going to get some rest Thanks for dinner." Max finally said, handing Logan the bottle of wine and reluctantly sliding down from the kitchen stool. "I'll see you tomorrow."

The door clicked shut quietly.

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_Fogle Towers. Still later that night._

It was midnight. Max 's reminder to go to sleep still rang in his ears, but Logan wasn't tired. He pulled up the photo of the missing girl that Matt had sent him. Her name was Amy. Her brown eyes stared back at him. It was a school picture, taken in front of a fake backdrop of a bookshelf. She wasn't more than 12 years old.

Logan's fingers played over the keyboard. Max had only been partly right. Seattle's international airport hadbeen out of commission since 2009, but that didn't put a trip to Thailand out of reach for Eyes Only. For once, he wasn't using an Eyes Only contact. He hated to admit it, but it was a Cale contact. Logan clicked over to the window that showed the Cale Industries shipping schedule. There were no longer any passengerflights flying out of the Northwest, but commercial flights still ran. And Cale Industries ran air cargo planes filled with hoverdrone parts to Asia once every week or two.

He ran his hands over the wheels of the chair and let out a long, slow breath. He hadn't been on a regular flight since the shooting, let alone stowed away on a cargo plane. And being thrown into a car by Bronck's goons a few days ago had not added to his confidence.

Logan leaned forward on the desk, rubbing his eyes. The incident with Bronck and Matt had bruised his confidence as much as it had his body. Max had tried to reason with him that Matt had been as much a captive as Logan, despite full use of his legs, but Logan had still come out of the experience a bit shaken. He just wasn't sure he could do it himself anymore. Max and Bling had really come through for him. Perhaps, he needed help this time too.


	2. Chapter 2

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_Fogle Towers. The next morning._

The sun had just started to break through the morning fog, when Logan slid over to the picture window, his coffee cup in his lap. When he had turned on the computer, the Cale shipping schedule was still up on the screen and it stared at him, daring him to go after the kidnapped girl.

"Oh, damn it. The worst Max can do is say no!" Logan spun away from the window, sliding his coffee cup onto the counter. Throwing his jacket onto his lap, he grabbed the keys and made his way to the elevator. Pulling out of the garage, he pointed the car towards Max and Kendra's apartment. .

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_Streets of Seattle. _

Max pedaled on, having already finished five deliveries that morning. Normal seemed bent on giving her more assignments than everyone else to make up for the shift she had missed the previous day, when she had been trying to rescue Matt and Logan. She definitely wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her give up. But her mind wasn't really on delivering packages.

She couldn't get the missing girl out of her head. Her heart went out to the girl and her family, but she didn't see how they were going to get her back. Her Manticore training told her that she had no business doing an 'op in a foreign country by herself without local support or local contacts. Her gut told her that it wouldn't be an option for Logan to go to Thailand either. His confidence had been shaken by his encounter with Bronck. No, Logan probably wasn't going to wander too far from home right now, even if he wanted to rescue the girl too.

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_Max and Kendra's apartment._

Logan hit the button in the elevator a few extra times for good measure, hoping to get to Max and Kendra's front door before he lost his nerve. By the time he sat outside their door, waiting for someone to answer his knock, he could hear his own heart pounding in his ears.

The door was ajar and he pushed it open with a squeak.

"Would you be needing any foreplay? Maybe a little morning pick me up? Perhaps you prefer the hot caffeinated kind? Or shall we skip ahead to the main course?" came Kendra's sultry voice from inside the apartment.

"I think the caffeinated kind will be fine. It's Logan, Kendra," he said, coming into the apartment.

"Oh." Kendra appeared in the doorway of her bedroom, tucking the belt of her short pink robe into a knot. She looked surprised, but only raised one perfect eyebrow in a question mark. Her pale face betrayed nothing as she sat down on one of the barstools. It took a lot more than an unexpected visitor to make Kendra blush.

"Max isn't here. Been gone for four hours already. Normal said he'd have her head if she didn't get in extra early today. She said she might come back for lunch, though."

Logan looked up at Kendra. Max's roommate might not be embarrassed at being caught a bit underdressed, but Logan felt his own ears warm a few degrees. Since he had landed in the chair five months ago, Logan hadn't felt quite comfortable in his own skin. And it seemed that other people didn't feel comfortable with him either. Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad. Maybe it was all in his head. Still, he had no problem feeling the heat from Kendra. The look she gave him seemed to say that he was a man worth having and for that, he was flattered and a little grateful.

"Since you're here anyway, might as well have a cup of Joe. One of my students pays me in fresh ground, so it's our little slice of heaven."

"Sounds good. What else are you cooking? It doesn't smell like you're just making coffee in here," Logan crossed over to the tiny kitchen. "Smells a lot like the Pasta Tricolore I missed the other night."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kendra countered, finally reddening a little. "I just thought I'd heat up a little of the sauce that _Max _made the other night, since _you_ didn't eat it.

"Is that right?" Logan answered, pushing up to the stove.

Kendra took the sauce off the stove to show Logan and offered him a spoonful.

"It really _was _good," she added. You missed out. She was pissed, you know."

"Believe, me. I know." Logan handed back the spoon, dripping a spot on the floor.

"Oh. Sorry."

"I got it," Kendra bent to wipe up the drip as Logan rolled smoothly forward to put the full pot back on the stove.

"Hey, quit it. What's the idea?" Kendra looked up at Logan. The trim of her robe had somehow gotten tangled in the wheel of his chair. He backed up to try to release it, but the sheer fabric wrapped further around the axel.

"Oh great," Kendra said, starting to remove her robe, exposing one bare shoulder.

"Whoa! What are you doing?" Logan pulled the robe back up around Kendra's neck, bending over the wheel trying to free the stubborn fabric. "Give me a little more slack. I can get it out."

"You're going to rip it, you know." Kendra knelt on the floor at Logan's feet now, lithely flipping around to face him now, her head almost in his lap. Her robe threatened to open again, exposing what Logan was quite sure would be a nude Kendra underneath.

"Oh, hell. You're going to have to get closer." Logan fiddled with the delicate fabric.

Trying to get a better look at the wheel, Kendra rose up on her knees…and bumped heads with Logan.

"Ow, watch what you're doing!" Logan looked up at Kendra, his glasses askew. She took one look at him and dissolved into a fit of giggles. Logan found himself smiling too. He reached down to pull up the robe, which was still sliding down her arm. He felt his gaze sliding south down her outstretched arm and forced his eyes elsewhere…anywhere.

Logan straightened his glasses and looked up. Kendra's laughter had fizzled out. Max stood in the doorway, looking at them both. Kendra tried to stand up, but nearly fell over as her robe, still caught in Logan's chair, brought her up short.

Max stared at them for another second, her face inscrutable. Then, she turned on her heel and walked toward the door.

"Wait! Max! Come on, please!" Kendra called after her.

Max left the apartment, closing the door softly behind her.

"Oh, for Pete's sake, this is ridiculous!" Kendra muttered. "I give up."

And with that, Kendra flung aside the robe and strode into her room, slamming the door. Logan had been too shocked to avert his eyes, so he was able to confirm that, indeed, Kendra was _not _wearing anything under her robe.

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Less than a minute later, Kendra emerged from the bedroom, now clad in a yellow kimono. She continued the conversation where she had left off.

"I can't believe that happened, Logan. You're just going to have to explain everything to Max. I have _never _been caught with my hand in the cookie jar, holding a friend's cookie. I don't intend to start now. _Never _a friend's cookie. Maybe an enemy's, but _never_ a friend's."

"Kendra, she's not my cookie. And she isn't mad at you, I don't even know why she'd be upset. If you insist, I'll page her and make sure everything's okay." Logan wheeled around and headed for the door. "I told you, we're not like that. She just doesn't see me like that."

Logan spun around quickly and headed out. Kendra touched his shoulder, stopping him on his way to the door.

"She sees you like that. I've spent a total of 15 minutes with you and it's crossed my mind that you'd be worth a few moves. So, I guarantee you that Max is spending all those nights exchanging moves with you, but she isn't just thinking about chess..

It was Logan's turn to blush hotly again. Two quick pushes brought him back out into the hallway. He breathed a sigh of relief as the door slammed behind him.

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	3. Chapter 3

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Two hours later, Max still hadn't returned Logan's pages. He began to entertain the idea that she might really be angry with him about the incident with Kendra. The prospect of her skipping work for a few days to go to Thailand seemed more and more remote.

"Oh well, even if she would have called me back, I would have chickened out of asking her anyway," Logan thought ruefully.

Logan started to turn the car back toward Fogle Towers, but he couldn't get the kidnapped girl out of this mind. Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt him to find out a little more information about the possibility of hitching a ride on a CI freight plane. It was a crazy idea, but it didn't hurt to do some recon. Logan turned the car around and headed for the bridge to the CI airstrip.

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Max was fuming. She leaned forward on her handlebars, skidding between parked cars and jumping her bike on and off the sidewalk as she wove down the busy street. She didn't even know why she was mad. After all, she hadn't really seen Logan doing anything with Kendra. And, hadn't she spent the last several weeks telling everyone that she and Logan didn't have anything more than friendship between them? If that was true, she shouldn't care whether Kendra flirted with Logan or not. Hell, Kendra was welcome to bang the gong with him if she wanted.

Except that that wasn't true. Seeing Logan leaning over Kendra as she laughed and put her arm on his shoulder had given Max a burning desire to throw something. If Max hadn't gotten out of the apartment, she was sure that either one of them would have been knocked unconscious by a set of keys thrown at 50 miles an hour.

Max couldn't decide if she more angry at Logan or at Kendra… or at herself for overreacting. Her pager beeped. Logan was calling her again. She was pretty sure that she'd regret anything she was going to say in her present state of mind, so she shut the pager off.

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Max's last delivery before lunch took her way east of downtown. She had thought she needed to blow off some steam anyway, so she had grabbed the package with the farthest address, eager to let her aching muscles take her mind off her busy thoughts. She bumped over the railroad track, taking a short cut toward the address on the package. She was cutting through a narrow alley, when she saw a car with the same idea turning ahead of her. Wasn't that Logan's car? Max followed the car out of the alley. To her surprise, the grey Aztek eased off the main road and headed down an overgrown side road.

Logan was the last person she wanted to talk to right now, but she couldn't help but wonder what he was doing here. The car made slow progress down the rutted, dirt road. Max followed at a distance, hopping her bike over the tufts of grass and dirt. What was Logan doing way out here?


	4. Chapter 4

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Logan took the bridge out to the Cale Industries airstrip. CI had bought the airfield at pennies on the dollar, when no one in the Northwest could afford air travel anymore. A few plain hangers had been installed and a 20-foot fence had been erected. Otherwise, nothing else had been done to fix it up. The skies were quiet overhead, since flights usually took off only once or twice a day. Rows of grey, unpainted converted Boeing 747 planes lined the airfield. Years ago, the planes had all borne the white and gold Cale Industries logo, but the Pulse had changed all that. Desperate pirates and hijackers had found the slow, heavy planes easy targets, so CI had decided to disguise their shiny cargo in ugly duckling grey paint.

Logan pulled the Aztek up to the security gate. He fished out the VIP pass that he used once a year to attend the mandatory board meeting that was a requirement for his allotment checks.

The security guard was busy counting the minutes until the end of his shift. He hardly gave the pass a glance before waving him through. Logan cut across the tarmac, heading toward the main loading area. The heat coming off the black surface created shimmering waves and he could feel the temperature change even in the car. The rainy winters in Seattle were legendary, but people forgot how hot the summers could be.

Logan felt the warm air coming out of the vents. The Aztek was only four months old, but the air conditioning was already acting up. Of course, since the Pulse, you never knew if your new car was actually new. He pulled up near the loading dock and got out of the car. The heat hit him like a furnace as he felt the sweat bead up on his neck and inside his shirt. By the time he reached the door of the hanger, he could even feel the black rims of his chair heating up under his hands.

"What can I do for you?" One of the loading dock workers suddenly appeared at the door. Apparently, the security guard had been paying better attention than he had thought and had radioed ahead.

"We don't usually see much of upper management down here," the worker sneered.

"Mind if I get a quick look at the payload that's going out tomorrow? Just trying to see if we can squeeze a little more inventory into fewer flights," Logan fibbed. He had tried to think of a plausible enough pretense that wouldn't bring Jonas or Bennett running down to the airport to investigate.

"Suit yourself." The foreman shrugged. Logan didn't seem to be looking for fault in their operation, so the man stepped back to let Logan through.

Inside the hanger was hotter than outside, if that was possible. Fans the size of Volkswagon Beetles circulated the air around, but the temperature still topped 95 degrees inside the metal building. Workers were busy, loading boxes onto hand trucks and pulling them up the ramp into the payload area of the plane. The foreman shouted something to the other workers who glanced up at Logan, then gradually cleared out of the building for a break.

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Except for the foreman puttering around in his office, Logan was alone in the hanger. He stole a glance toward the office, but the foreman seemed engrossed in his own duties. Logan scanned the piles of crates and pallets. Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, he moved closer toward the plane. A man stepped out into the doorway of the plane's rear cargo hold. He waved to Logan to follow him and disappeared into the plane. Logan pushed his way over to the ramp and started up slowly. It was steep and Logan gritted his teeth in frustration. By the time he reached the top of the ramp, his shirt was soaked. The air was close and heavy. Since the plane had been converted from a passenger to a freight plane, the windows had been blacked out, so the interior of the plane was dim.

Logan made his way slowly past the boxes. Glancing ahead, he thought he saw some movement further in. A dark-haired man stood just inside the door to the next compartment, beckoning to him again. Logan gestured at the steep ramp and at his wheelchair, shaking his head, but the man stood his ground. As Logan pondered his next step, the airplane engines roared to life and the maintenance crew began its last minute checks.


	5. Chapter 5

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Just inside the door of the hanger, Max pondered her own next step. She had followed Logan as far as the hanger, trying to figure out what had brought Eyes Only to this unnamed airstrip. She trained her keen eyes on the flight manifest clipboard held by the foreman.

CI FLIGHT # 103

DESTINATION: BANGKOK

DEPARTURE: 14:00 AUGUST 3

Was Logan trying to hop a Cale Industries flight to Thailand? Was that what he was doing down here?

The loading crew had left to take a break outside. Max had watched from her hiding place as Logan had stolen quietly onto the deserted plane. The minutes had ticked by. The flight crew climbed into the cockpit and started the engines. The workers finished their break and began filing back into the hanger.

"Damn it if I'm going to let you have all the fun, Logan," Max said to herself as she made a break for the open rear hatch.

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Inside the plane, Logan stared, exasperated, at the man hidden in the shadows. He had pushed his way up the ramp to the doorway, but the man had retreated beyond the door. Grabbing onto the sides of the doorway, Logan eased his two front wheels over the narrow metal threshold, rolling into the next compartment.

"Please, stop. We don't have much time," Logan stopped in the middle of the room, locking his brakes. The roar of the engines grew steadily louder. The man stepped forward. He had a slight build and moved easily, although Logan suspected he might be a lot older than his movements belied. A black courier bag was slung across his chest. As he reached into his bag, the engines revved and the planed lurched forward. The man was thrown forward against Logan. With brakes still locked, Logan tipped back with the force of the man's weight. He tumbled backwards, but not before catching a glimpse of a gray blur hurtling past him. The blur struck the other man full in the chest knocking him against the steel floor of the plane, ripping the bag from his chest.

"No, Max!" Logan pushed his chair aside, scrambling toward the two figures.

"Wait, Max! That was …" Logan tried to shout over the scream of the engine as Max kicked the man in the head and he lay still.

"That was Mr. Koonikorn," Logan finished. "That was my Bangkok contact that you just kicked in the head."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:**

Here the final installment of this short story for Marcus. I've listed the requests at the end of the fic, so you can see if I fulfilled most of them. If you only read the first update, there was a second one I posted with Chapters 3, 4, and 5. Unfortunately, they didn't show up as anything new and FFN. This update is chapters 6-9. First I had trouble with my last posting, then I was unable to login at all for the whole weekend.

Thanks for your persistence. Who knew it would be so hard to read..

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_Cale Industries Private Airfield_

Logan placed the folded bag under the older man's head and checked his pulse again.

"I think he'll be fine, but he's going to have a whopping headache in a few minutes…and he is going to be very pissed at me." Logan added. He righted his chair and pulled it behind him, waving off any help from Max.

"Well, how the hell was I supposed to know he was an informant?" Max glared at Logan as she stood a few feet away.

"This isn't the first time Eyes Only has met with an informant without your help, you know." Logan eyes were blazing now, but even as the words left his lips, he felt painfully aware of how the last meet with Matt had gone.

"I'm sorry, Logan." The events of two nights ago were still fresh in her mind too, but to bring it up now would be to rub salt in a wound that Logan still felt so acutely.

Logan pulled his knees up to his chest, balancing his legs against the chair. Shoving hard up with one hand on the floor and the other on the seat of the chair, he slid his hips back into the chair.

"Mr. Koonikorn was on his way to Thailand with this cargo. He knows the part of Bangkok where they're holding the girl and he going to try to get the girl back. Even if he's in any condition to keep going to Bangkok, I'm pretty sure he's not going to want to have anything to do with Eyes Only now"

Logan glared at Max. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

Max folded her arms across her chest and tossed her head, sulkily. "I didn't want to miss the fun," she said quietly, "I'd never been out of the country before."

"Max," Logan sighed. He ran his fingers through his hair and rested his head in his hands. His expression softened. "You really thought I was going to stow away on a flight to Thailand by myself to rescue a kidnapped girl?"

"Hey, you've done worse before." Max looked at the floor.

"Touché, Max" Logan sighed.

They felt the plane lurch again as it began to taxi down the runway.

"Max, you better run up to the cockpit and get them to turn the plane around. We're going to have to find some other way to get that girl back, without Mr Koonikorn."

"Why? Max grinned at Logan slyly, "He's stuck here on the plane with us already and we've got 14 hours to convince him to help us get her back."


	7. Chapter 7

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_Five days later…On a train heading south from Bangkok_

"Well, that's about it," Logan said, closing his laptop. Amy and Mr. Koonikorn are on their way back to Seattle. Koonikorn guy turned out to be all right, although, I think he was still a little scared of you until the end." Logan teased.

"Very funny,." Max rolled her eyes.

"And…I told Bling that we'd missed the flight back and we'd see him in a couple of days. He wanted the whole story, but I told him we'd fill him in when we got back.." Logan tucked the laptop back in his bag. "I hope I don't regret this little detour.

"It was the least we could do after Mr. Koonikorn went out on a limb for us. It's just one favor. Deliver a package to his friend. He even gave us specific instructions."

"Yeah, specific instructions with street names I have no hope of pronouncing."

"Oh, quit complaining, Mr. Grumpy."

Max stood up from her seat and stretched. The plastic seat sprang back up and banged sharply as she stood, but Max could hardly hear it over the din of the train. She couldn't believe that they were here. Since Logan had first returned from the hospital, he had tried hard to show Max how well he had adapted to life in the wheelchair. When they had said goodbye at the cabin, Max hadn't been able to stop the words from tumbling out.

"You could always ditch it all and go on the lam with me."

"I would just slow you down," he had said

Max had opened her mouth to argue, then stopped herself. Until that moment, she had not thought about how difficult it would be for Logan to run away with her. She could help him, but would he let her? Looking back, Max should have seen all the reminders that Logan's life had been changed by Bruno Anselmo's bullet. Yet to her, Logan had always been just Logan, stubborn, loyal, devoted, and brilliant.

After the incident with Bronck and Matt, Logan had seemed torn. The capture by Bronck's men, being dragged away from his wheelchair, had humbled him. Yet he couldn't help himself. The confrontation with Bronck had thrilled him too.

All these thoughts had run through Max's head as she had stood over Mr. Koonikorn in the plane. Maybe the fact that Max had thought he was serious about flying to Thailand had made Logan believe it himself, but he had said yes to her crazy idea. Max felt that she had held her breath for most of the next five days, but somehow they had made it in a city that could hardly be any less wheelchair accessible. Max had stolen a look at Logan, sitting beside her, but his face had revealed nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

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Max and Logan heard the rustle of the dense foliage scraping the roof as the train began to slow. The train officer tapped Logan politely on the shoulder and nodded toward the door. The officer had looked dubiously at Logan's wheelchair and pantomimed an awkward apology, but hadn't indicated that the he was planning to make any special accommodations for Logan. The train slowed gradually, approaching the clearing in the trees. Logan had seen enough previous stops to know that he only had a few seconds. He moved his chair gingerly to the edge of the stairs leading off the train and bumped quickly down the last two steps, hanging on grimly to the railing. Max shoved him clear of the last step as the train started up. The jungle soon swallowed the train again.

As the sound of the train faded away, the quiet sounds of the train station settled over them. Actually, it wasn't much of a station. Four upright posts supported a wooden roof. The rectangle of shade thrown by the little roof was barely big enough for one person, but at least the structure gave the spot an idea of a train station. Some of the larger towns they had passed had signs in English and Thai, but this stop warranted only a hand-painted sign in the wavy local script. One lone man sat behind a faded cooler, selling brightly colored juice in plastic bags, the tops of the bags wrapped tightly around a tiny straw with a rubber band.

"Are you sure you want to drink that?" Logan cautioned as Max offered the man a few coins.

"I think my X-5 stomach can take it. Besides, I'm too thirsty to care," Max added, sipping at the warm juice.

The train tracks had roughly followed the path of one of the local rivers and the trees grew thick around them. Logan hesitated a moment at the edge of the pavement. A rough dirt road led down a slope and disappeared into the trees. Max came up behind him and leaned lightly on the back of his chair.

"It's not a mission, you know," Max said gently, guessing Logan's thoughts. "Let's just see how it goes. One step at a time."

Logan grunted at the irony of her words and let himself roll down the dirt path with Max following behind.

The path wound through the thick trees. Occasionally, the sounds of birds or other small animals interrupted the silence. The road was quite clear, suggesting that it saw regular traffic even though they were the only ones walking on it now. Logan pushed his way slowly over the rough ground. His thoughts strayed back to a few weeks ago, when he had left Max at the cabin with Zack. She had asked him to run away with her and he had smiled sadly, thinking about how impossible an idea that was. Now, here they were, not quite running, but at least trudging along a strange path on the other side of the world.

They rounded the next corner to find that the path ended in a small square, flanked on all sides by small wooden buildings. Some buildings were clearly shops, with baskets of rice and dried fish and spices lined up neatly in front. Next to one house, the heavy wooden platform that served as a bed had been pulled outside to take advantage of the slight breeze. Two men sat on the edge of the platform, smoking cigarettes and talking quietly. A boy lay on his stomach at the other end, tickling a cat with the end of a long feather.

Max consulted the folded paper with the instructions written neatly on it.

"It says we're supposed to look for Mr. Koonikorn's friend in the old clinic.

A storefront with a faded caduceus on the sign stood in the middle of the line of buildings. Someone had laid cement pavers in an area on either side of the door. A porch roof shaded the area, making a rough waiting room area where a few children and their mothers sat on wooden benches.

As Max and Logan approached, all five sets of eyes turned to look at them. For once, Logan was pretty sure they were staring more intently at Max's curly hair and his blue eyes and _not _at his chair. Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw everyone in the waiting room sneak out quickly as he and Max went in the door, making even the hair on the back of Logan's neck prickle.

"Max might not do guns, but I wouldn't mind having mine right about now," he thought

The space in front of the counter was narrow, with barely enough room for Logan to turn around. He backed up until his back wheels touched the wall. A teenage boy sat on a stool near the end of the counter, flipping through a comic book. The man who stood behind the counter finished counting some pills and swept them into a plastic bottle before looking up. He sized up Max and leaned forward on his hands to look down at Logan from above the high counter.

Max began, "We're friends of Tarapunchai Koonikorn. Are you the pharmacist here?"

The man drew his hands back under the counter and nodded once.

Logan reached into his backpack to pull out the package, a round box the size of a small orange, wrapped in brown paper. As he reached up to set it on the counter, Max's sharp ears heard a click under the counter.

Max dove over the counter, her hands wrapping around the man's neck, pushing him up against the back wall. The boy sprang to life, pulling out the long barrel of a shotgun from behind the counter. Logan pushed off the wall behind him, barreling into the boy who stumbled.

"Drop it, now." Max shoved the man hard against the wall for emphasis. The boy regained his footing. He held his ground, aiming the twin barrels at Logan's chest.

"Open it," the man croaked, his voice squeaking out from under Max's arm.

Logan eyes Max, who nodded toward the package.

Logan pulled off the brown paper and held up the round plastic object.

"It's a mouse." Surprised, Logan pushed forward and put the object back on the counter.

"A what?" Max kept her tight hold on the older man.

"A mouse… for a computer."

The pharmacist gave a disgusted grunt and waved a hand toward the boy. The boy relaxed his hold on the shotgun leaning it against the counter. Slowly, Max let go of the man, who straightened out his collar and rubbed his neck, ruefully.

"That stupid brother of mine is going to get me killed someday," the man remarked in clipped English. He picked up the mouse and tossed it to the boy. I guess you really do know Punchai. I can never be too careful. The local thieves are getting braver, and more stupid. They know I order painkillers once a week, but I'm ready for them now.

The man shuffled forward and gestured to them to follow him into the back. "Sorry about the gun, although it looks like you two can handle yourselves all right. All I can offer you is a cold drink, but then you'd better be on your way. It's a long ride back to Bangkok."

He led them into another room in the back of the house. He looked at Logan with concern as he navigated his way around the crowded room, as if he had become suddenly aware of his wheelchair. A noisy air conditioner hummed in the corner. The man opened a dilapidated pink fridge and pulled out three bottles of soda. Logan drifted over to towards the corner towards the desk where the boy now sat. The desk held a couple of hard drives, ancient even by Pulse standards. The boy had apparently rigged a keyboard and screen to the computers. He plugged in the new mouse and began to type furiously.

"Where did you say you were from again?" the man asked.

"Seattle. That's where we met your brother." Logan answered. He gazed absentmindedly at the newspaper photos and clipped pinned to wall behind the boy.

The elder pharmacist brought one of the bottles to the boy and set it down next to the computer. Max brought the second bottle of soda to Logan and sat next to him in one of the chairs. The boy grabbed his father's arm and jabbered excitedly with him, pointing at the computer.

Logan sipped his drink slowly. He became aware that the boy and his father had fallen silent. They were staring at the computer screen and as he met their gaze, he realized that they were also looking intently at him. The father and son began speaking quickly in Thai. Logan couldn't understand flurry of words, but he did understand one phrase – 'Eyes Only.'" Logan found himself focusing on the clipping directly behind the boy. It was a blurry newspaper photo of the familiar cable hack's red, white, and blue stripes and the eyes….his eyes. Suddenly, the other headlines leaped out at him too. The wall was covered with clippings about the undercover cyperjournalist from Seattle.

"You're Eyes Only," the man said, rising to his feet. Logan put his hands to his wheels, backing up, his heart pounding. Max stood up too.

The man cracked a wide smile. "Eyes Only…deserves more than a cold drink."


	9. Chapter 9

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The man spoke quietly to his son, who disappeared through a side door. Then, the pharmacist crossed the room and threw open the double doors at the back. He gestured toward the open doors, stepping back to let them pass, said, "Welcome to my little home."

The wide steps led down to a lush courtyard garden. Rows of rich tiles cut orderly paths through swaths of green grass. Trees thick with mangoes, papayas, and other fruits Max couldn't name lined the paths as a few birds wove in and out among the branches. Around the edge of the garden stood several small cottages, painted in the same bright colors as the tiles underfoot. Max and Logan followed the elder Mr. Koonikorn around the courtyard to a long table under the trees. The boy reappeared with a servant who brought a cart with a platter of fruit and glasses of pink liquid.

Mr. Koonikorn began to peel and slice one of the mangos, chatting brightly, "When our pharmacy business started doing well, we gradually pushed the drug dealers out of this village and took over this house. I began to grow fruit trees. Also, I do a radio show where the people can call me to ask questions about their health. I started adding on to the house so that my friends could stay with me. My son has always been interested in computers, so when we moved here. He gradually learned more and more. We have a satellite connection here," he added proudly.

"We write regularly to my brother and he has told us all about Eyes Only in Seattle. We have seen many of your cable hacks, not live, of course."

"He's a regular Oprah." Logan whispered to Max, who stifled a laugh.

Presently, Mr. Koonikorn paused to take a breath. He smiled knowingly at Logan.

"I was going to ask you to join me for dinner, but I see that you are tired. I am sure you and your lady friend would prefer a more private evening. I will see you tomorrow."

Before Logan could stammer out a reply, their host rose and motioned for them to follow him. Pointing them toward an opening between two trees, he bowed deeply and repeated, "I will see you tomorrow."

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The sloping trail led to a bungalow sitting on low stilts on a narrow strip of beach. The deep blue water stretched out to the horizon. Logan backed up against the steps.

"Bling taught me a new trick, but maybe you could just make sure I don't end up with my head in the sand," Logan said awkwardly. He reached back to grab the railing as high up as he could with one hand and tugged at his wheel with the other. He inched up the two steps, pushed open the door and rolled into the tiny cabin. The bedroom held just a bed and an even tinier kitchen was just beyond the bedroom.

Max had cleaned up first before Logan made his way into the bathroom. The hours of travel along the dirt road had covered him with a fine coat of dust and sweat. Without really pausing to think about it, he stripped off his clothes. Lifting his feet off the footrests and leaning forward to put his hands on the ground, he lowered himself to the tiled floor. Resting his head against the wall, he let the water stream over him.

Ten minutes later, Logan emerged from the bathroom. He had shed his dusty clothes and was now wearing only the loose pants and T-shirt he had bought when they had landed in Bangkok. To Max, they made him look boyish. He felt awkward with his bare feet resting on the footrests, but they had left Seattle without even a change of clothes and he was lucky he had any clean things at all. Max lay stretched out on the bed. She had thrown open the windows so that she could look out onto the ocean from where she lay.

Logan swiveled his chair around neatly next to the bed.

"Is this the kind of adventure you had in mind, Max?" Logan smiled at her and felt suddenly shy. For months, they had shared late night meals and endless games of chess. At time, when Logan had laid his hand on Max forehead or touched her arm, he had felt a heat that seemed unbearable. But he had never allowed himself to think that Max might see him in that way, that she might burn with the same desire. Now, thousands of miles away from home in this steamy, dizzy, mysterious place, anything seemed possible.

Max moved over to make room. Logan slid himself up onto the bed and leaned back against the pillows. Max settled herself against Logan. Suddenly, without pausing to look at him, she kissed his hands tenderly, pressing them to her cheeks. Logan smiled and wordlessly wrapped his arms around her body.

They watched the sun slowly setting over the smooth sea.

"This is exactly the kind of adventure I had in mind."

Marcus's requests:

1) Sibling complications/rivalry – not Zack!  
2) Logan and Kendra in a compromising position.  
3) Max acting jealous (and denying it).  
4) Someone sees an EO hack somewhere beyond Seattle and recognizes Logan.  
5) A trip abroad (ie not Canada or Mexico).


End file.
